


Gone Too Soon

by cheeky_blinders



Category: Peaky Blinders
Genre: Angst, Death, M/M, Old Age, these two love birds, tommy and alfie have grown old together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 02:26:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18714622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheeky_blinders/pseuds/cheeky_blinders
Summary: The title came from a song I was listening to when writing this. Feel free to listen to it as you read though, it will hit hard, especially near the endhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4N-POQr-DQQ





	Gone Too Soon

**Author's Note:**

> The title came from a song I was listening to when writing this. Feel free to listen to it as you read though, it will hit hard, especially near the end  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4N-POQr-DQQ

Tommy woke to find the bed empty. He wasn’t sure what had caused him to wake but when he reached out a hand to try to find his husband, Tommy found that Alfie was gone and that the spot next to him was cold. Feeling dread in his stomach, Tommy sat up, perhaps a bit too quickly for his back gave a loud crack and he groaned in pain. Once the pain had subsided, Tommy glanced out the window to see that the sun was just starting to rise. He could hear the gulls in the background, cawing to each other as they started their day as well. Tommy threw his legs over the side of the bed, waiting for his joints to get the blood flowing before he got up and went to the closet. He pulled out a pair of black pants and pulled them on as well as an old white shirt and his suspenders. This was how Tommy dressed nowadays. Long gone were the three-piece suits with the fancy pocket watch. One did not need that when they lived at the side of the ocean. The water would just ruin it all anyway.

The one thing that Tommy did keep was his cap. Throwing it on top of his now quite gray hair, Tommy made his way out into the kitchen. With no sign of Alfie in the kitchen, Tommy headed outside. The two of them had lived at the seaside for nearly ten years and every morning Tommy swore he would never get used to waking up to Alfie and the ocean. When he had been younger and someone would have asked about his future, Tommy would never have answered simply because he doubted he would make it this long in the world.

He spotted Alfie sitting on their porch in his rocking chair, smoking a pipe quietly. Tommy made his way over to Alfie and took a seat in the chair opposite of him, taking Alfie’s wrinkly hand in his. As he sat, Tommy’s eyes scanned Alfie silently. Old age had been kind to his husband. Alfie still had his long beard of course but the color had faded into white and his hair had changed color to be a mixture of gray as well as baldness. Course, Alfie denied he was going bald so Tommy knew better than to bring it up. Alfie’s face had grown wrinkles especially around his forehead and around his eyes. Tommy teased Alfie that the wrinkles were because he worked too hard and if they had retired sooner, he might not have so many wrinkles. Alfie always declared the wrinkles were from worrying about Tommy.

Alfie was the first to speak, clearing his throat. “Whatcha doing up, love?” He asked Tommy as he continued to puff away on his pipe.

“Woke up and didn’t find you in bed so I figured something might be wrong. Knees bothering you?” Old age had the habit of bringing up old aches and pains in one’s body.

“Hmm, a mixture of the knees and the back,” Alfie admitted as he turned his gaze to look at Tommy. Tommy had always loved Alfie’s eyes but he had noticed recently how life seemed to be fading out from them. Tommy nodded silently in understanding. He was just glad that Alfie was on the porch and nowhere else. Within the past few years, Alfie had slowly begun to lose his memory and had taken to wandering about and forgetting where he lived. As silence fell between them once more, Tommy found himself remembering the trip to the doctors only a few months ago.

_At first, it had been small things and they both just figured it was old age. It was only within the last few months that Alfie’s memory had really started to go. When they had gone to see a doctor about Alfie the man told them that Alfie had Alzheimer’s and that there was nothing they could do about it. Tommy had been glad he had such solid control over his emotions for he was able to keep it together until they had gotten back to their seaside house. Alfie had said nothing the entire car ride back and neither had Tommy. Alfie went inside to go make them a cup of tea which is when Tommy took his chance. Calling that he would be back later, Tommy had taken their small rowboat and gone out to the sea. Once he was far enough away that Alfie wouldn’t be able to see him, Tommy allowed himself to grieve. His lover, his partner, was losing his memory. There was no cure. The doctor said that it could take time but he didn’t know how long. Alfie would forget who he was and he would forget Tommy. He would forget their children. Alfie would forget everything._

_Tommy had cried for quite some time and when he had eventually come back, Alfie was waiting. Neither man said a word as they hugged each other tightly but the hug put forth what words could not._

Tommy was relieved when Alfie spoke again, breaking his thoughts “Have you fed Cyril yet?” Alfie asked and Tommy’s heart sank. Cyril had died years ago of old age.

“Alfie, love, Cyril has been dead for quite some time. Remember?” He reminded Alfie as tenderly as he could. This had happened many times before and every time it hurt just as much as the first time. Alfie’s brow furrowed and he looked at Tommy in confusion.

“Whatcha mean? He was with us just last night.” Alfie said, looking around before whistling. “Cyril! Cyril!” He called, looking in puzzlement at his husband when no dog came.

“Alfie, Cyril has been dead for nearly ten years. He died of old age.” Tommy explained in a soothing tone. “We buried him in the back, underneath his favorite tree. There’s a small stone there that you made for him.” Alfie rubbed at his beard, teeth clenched as he tried to remember this.

“Show me,” Alfie commanded and Tommy agreed, standing up. Alfie stood up too and leaning on his cane massively, the two made their way to the back of their house. The back was a small garden that was Alfie’s who, when he planted it, declared he had always wanted a flower garden but a “flower garden ain’t fit for a London gangster now is it? Good thing I’m not one anymore.” were his words. Tommy led Alfie to the gravestone which had begun to show the signs of age and deterioration caused by time and the sea.

The two stood there wordlessly for some minutes as Alfie stared at the stone before him. Cyril Solomons. Beloved dog and friend the gravestone read. Tommy would stand as long as Alfie needed him to but this time the man only spent a few minutes staring at the stone before making his way out of the garden and into the house once more. Tommy followed him mutely and once inside began to make breakfast for the two of them.

It seemed that Alfie had gotten the paper earlier that morning for he opened it up and scanned the headlines without much interest. “Anything good?” Tommy asked as he began to make them tea and eggs.

“Hmm, don’t look like it,” Alfie said as he lazily flipped through the pages. “Though, they have the results of the Derby. Looks like good old Denver Man won that, odds were 4-1.” Alfie began to read the article, occasionally pausing to push his glasses up his nose while Tommy cooked. Once breakfast was served, Alfie set aside the paper and the two began to eat.

“What are the plans for today?” Tommy asked Alfie as the two ate. Tommy only had a few errands to run in the town but he was curious if Alfie had anything planned.

“Hmm, I’ll go for a walk later before Charlie arrives,” Alfie said. “I hope he brings along lil’ Gracie. I always like seeing her.” Tommy resisted another sigh as Alfie spoke.

“Alfie, Charlie isn’t coming today. He’s coming on Saturday, remember? Today’s only Wednesday.”

“Is it now?” Alfie looked like he doubted Tommy’s words but he casually scanned the front page of the paper but Tommy knew what he was doing. He was checking the date. “Hmm, looks like it is Wednesday. Old age does that to you.” He said with a chuckle. Alfie didn’t remember that he had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and eventually Tommy had just stopped reminding him. It was easier that way. “Well, in that case, I don’t have anything planned.”

“I have a few errands to run in town if you want to join.” Tommy offered and Alfie gave a nod. Once they had finished eating and cleaned up, Alfie put on his old hat and his jacket while Tommy waited patiently. When they were ready, Alfie took Tommy’s hand and the two made their way out and to the town.  
-*-*-*-*-* -*-*-*-*-* -*-*-*-*-* -*-*-*-*-* -*-*-*-*-* -*-*-*-*-*

When Saturday came around, Tommy was quite relieved. Charlie would be coming with his wife and their three children. They visited every few weeks and the two old men always looked forward to these visits. When the family arrived, Tommy and Alfie were waiting on the porch. “Grandpa! Grandda!” Emma, the oldest who was 10, jumped out of the car the second it stopped and raced to Alfie and Tommy’s open arms. “I have so much to tell you!” She exclaimed as she was wrapped up in a tight hug. Her younger brother, Robert, was not far behind. He was 6 and he too was greeted in a hug. The final child was Grace, named after Charlie’s mother. Grace was only one and she waddled after her siblings, giggling as Alfie picked her up and spun her around. Naturally, that caused the other grandchildren to demand the same thing be done to them which left Alfie with his hands full.

Tommy chuckled and greeted his son with a hug and then gave Charlie’s wife, Joan, a quick kiss on the cheek. “How has he been doing?” Charlie asked as Joan ushered the children and Alfie into the kitchen. Tommy gave Charlie a bitter exhalation.

“Not well. He’s forgetting more and more. Sometimes it’s small things such as the day of the week or that he bought milk yesterday and doesn’t need to buy it again. Other times, it’s bigger things. He forgot what we used to do in London and in Birmingham. Asked me where my cap was from.” Tommy ran a hand through his silver hair, shaking his head wistfully. “I think he’s dying, Charlie,” Tommy admitted with a disheartened whisper, looking up at his son. “His appetite is falling and he has slowed down so much. I know, I know, we both have gotten old but he gets winded when we walk to the village which is only ten minutes or so away. His eyes...they’re losing the life that they once had in them.” Tommy’s voice broke and he looked away, eyes gazing out to the ocean before them. He still had issues expressing his feelings, even after all these years. Some habits didn’t change.

Charlie knew this and he said nothing, and instead gave his father’s hand a tight squeeze. “Come, let’s go inside and go enjoy the time as a family.” Charlie murmured and Tommy nodded. The two went in to find Gracie was in Alfie’s lap as he bounced her, Emma and Robert fighting for their grandfather’s attention. When Tommy and Charlie came in, Emma turned and was quick to tell Tommy all about her school assignment and how she had gotten a 100 on it.

The morning was spent catching up and it was not long before the grandchildren grew antsy and wanted to go for a walk. Tommy was going to object, saying that Alfie needed rest but Alfie spoke before Tommy could, saying he would be honored if Emma would walk with him. Emma giggled and the group then headed out. Tommy walked with Grace, her small fingers holding his hand as she toddled along, occasionally pausing to pick up a seashell. “Very pretty.” Tommy murmured as he was handed the tenth shell that Grace had given him, slipping this and all the other shells into his pocket. She grinned up at him before continuing on.

Alfie was up ahead with the older two. Alfie seemed to be struggling but he never let his grandchildren see and instead did his best to keep pace with them. Emma and her brother took a break to play in the ocean and Charlie joined theme while Joan took Grace, giving Alfie and Tommy time to talk for a moment. “Alfie, you need to take it easy.” Tommy criticized his husband when he drew closer, seeing how Alfie was wheezing and his face was rather red.

“Nonsense! Did you see how much fun they’re having, Tom? It’s worth it!” Alfie declared. “Besides, you’re a worry wart.” Alfie leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to Tommy’s lips before he made his way to the edge of the sea. Tommy sighed wearily, shaking his head as he watched Alfie play and spin Robert around.

The rest of the day passed by quiet enough and Tommy was sorry to see Charlie and his family leave. Having the grandchildren around made Tommy feel at least ten years younger and it always brought such life to their small home. Alfie was quick to fall asleep that night but Tommy stayed up, unable to sleep. His mind kept wandering to Alfie and his concern only grew the more he thought about it.

Eventually giving up on sleep, Tommy pulled on a yellow rain jacket over his pajamas and went into the kitchen, pouring himself a Scotch before going to their porch. Tommy rested against the doorframe and slowly drank his drink, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. Between the Scotch and the cigarette, Tommy’s mind slowly relaxed and by the time he had finished both, he felt peaceful once more and was able to go to sleep.

As he climbed back into bed, Tommy pressed a soft kiss to Alfie’s cheek and snuggled close to his husband before falling asleep.

As time wore on, Alfie grew worse. He began to forget Charlie and his family. He forgot about Cyril nearly every day now. One morning, he even lashed out at Tommy because he forgot who his own husband was. This was affecting Alfie just as much as it was affecting Tommy. Alfie started to become jumpy, often forgetting where they were or thinking that somebody was after them. He stopped sleeping and instead took to pacing the house with a gun. When Tommy got rid of the gun, Alfie was convinced the Italians had taken it and thus were back and that they were going to ambush them. Every time though, Tommy was there. Tommy was there to calm Alfie down and remind his husband where they were and that they were safe. Generally, after these episodes, Alfie would break down and sob. 

Every time, Tommy would hold his husband and hush him, kissing his head and reminding Alfie over and over how much he was loved. Only once Alfie was asleep did Tommy allow himself to wallow in his grief.

-*-*-*-*-* -*-*-*-*-* -*-*-*-*-* -*-*-*-*-* -*-*-*-*-* -*-*-*-*-* -*-*-*-*-* 

This went on for another few months until one morning it did not. Tommy woke to find Alfie in bed with him for once. Smiling faintly, Tommy snuggled up to his husband. “Morning.” He murmured, pushing himself up with a soft groan on his elbow, pressing a kiss to Alfie’s cold cheek. The lack of warmth took Tommy by surprise and he sat up. “Alfie?” He asked, shaking his husband. “Alfie?” Tommy’s voice began to rise in dread as he shook his husband harder till Alfie’s lifeless body rolled over into Tommy’s lap. Checking for a pulse and finding none, Tommy sat there entirely numb. He stared down at Alfie’s lifeless body, unable to process anything. Unable to do anything but stare. Alfie was gone.

It was not long before a pair of arms were around him and Tommy heard the familiar sound of Charlie’s voice break through the fog that was clouding his head. Was his son suppose to be visiting today? Tommy couldn’t remember. “Dad, he’s gone.” Charlie’s own voice was thick with emotion. “Come on, Dad, you need to let him go.” Tommy shook his head, shaking his head harder as Charlie continued to insist. Sighing, Charlie called for Arthur to help him. It took a combination of Arthur and Charlie to get Tommy to let go of Alfie’s hand.

When Alfie’s hand left Tommy’s, that was when all hell broke loose. Tommy began to scream, his voice ripping his throat in half just like his heart was. He screamed for Alfie to wake up, to be let go of so he could go to Alfie. He fought, trying to get back to his husband but he was too weak to break the grasp of his brother and Charlie.

After that, everything was a blur. Charlie took care of everything for the funeral and Michael came to stay with Tommy as well as Arthur. The two did their best to get Tommy to eat or drink but Tommy did nothing. If he slept, Tommy didn’t remember. Everything was just numb and no amount of alcohol or cigarettes would help.

The funeral was a few days later. Alfie was buried next to Cyril. It was what he would have wanted. The service was small, attended only by the Shelby’s and a handful of people from the village. Words were said but Tommy didn’t remember them. He was offered to say a few words but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out. Instead, Tommy took out a flask and lifted it up as a toast. L’chaim, he thought. To life.

A week later, Thomas Shelby died in his sleep. The official reason was old age but everyone knew it was of a broken heart.

_Tommy woke in an unfamiliar place and looked around, trying to figure out where he was. He was at a train station but why? He didn’t remember going to a train station. It was oddly silent too. No trains coming in and out. Nobody around. Tommy stood and looked down at himself to find himself dressed as he had dressed when he was still the leader of the Peaky Blinders. Even his cap was on his head. Having the cap on his head made Tommy feel a bit more secure. Tommy Now, where was he?_

_“Took you long enough.” A voice said and Tommy turned to see Alfie walking towards him. Alfie was dressed too in his old clothes and he looked like his young self again._

_“Alfie,” Tommy whispered and burst into a run, speeding into his husband’s arms and kissing him intensely. Alfie kissed him back deeply for a few moments before pulling away. “Come.”_

_“Where?”_

_“Somewhere special.”_


End file.
